


bread and honey

by scribblingnellie



Series: Tentative [4]
Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Breakfast, F/M, Molly being nosy, POV Molly Hooper, Romance, Sexy, Silver Fox Lestrade, naked Greg, post-shower Greg, wearing his dressing gown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-02-17 06:18:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2299508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblingnellie/pseuds/scribblingnellie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper's in need of breakfast but a sexy Greg Lestrade proves distracting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bread and honey

**Author's Note:**

> Another follow on to 'The Pathologist and the Detective' - this time, it's the morning from Molly's POV. Sexy but not graphic! Originally published on my fanfiction.net page as one of my May creative prompts stories.

  
It was a very nice bum.

Watching his naked body disappear into the hallway, off for a shower, Molly couldn't stop smiling. Sex with Greg was gorgeous. Why had it taken them so long to get together? Well, whatever the reasons, they were together now. Still smiling, she finished off her second mug of tea; the first one had gone cold while they'd been otherwise busy and the second Greg'd made for her after they'd ...been busy.

However, two mugs of tea were definitely not enough to sustain a woman through a morning spent in bed with her new man; Molly's stomach grumbled, loudly, as she rolled herself off the bed. She grabbed his dressing gown from the floor, where she'd thrown it after wrestling it off him, and slipped it on. Being a good foot shorter than Greg, she found the sleeves dangled over her hands, the bottom hem grazing her ankles. But it was very soft and comfy, and smelled of him. Gorgeous. Wrapping it tight around her, rolling the sleeves up, she padded down the stairs and wandered into the kitchen.

She could only remember bits of last night, the exhaustion had taken over so quickly. There were images, vague, in the back of her mind - Greg mashing potatoes in the kitchen, him bringing her a mug of tea in the front room, eating at the table with his leg brushing against hers, snuggling up to him on the sofa eating chocolates.

Again, her stomach grumbled. Food. Standing by the lovely old chunky dining table and mismatched chairs, she looked around. Lots of cupboards and shelves and a large fridge; bound to be something to eat in one of those. Molly couldn't help herself as her hand inched towards the nearest handle. Greg was in the shower; she'd just open a few doors.

Assortment of mugs and glasses - pint glasses, tumblers - in the nearest cupboard; proper coffee cups and beautiful dinner service in the next. Were those the plates he'd used last night? Pulling open the large cupboard door next, she was greeted by the sight of shelf upon shelf of tins, bottles, jars and packets; Greg wouldn't mind her having a little nose about. Tinned tomatoes, baked beans (bless, single person staple food!), olives, kidney beans, three, no, four types of pasta. Molly ran her fingers along the packets, nudging them aside, peeking over the back. Several types of coffee - instant and ground. He had a cafeterie? Mmm, proper coffee. Boxes of cereal - cornflakes, muesli, wheetabix. Posh jam! Raspberry, apricot and blueberry, yum. And jars of Marmite, peanut butter and honey as well.

Then she knew just what she fancied. Grabbing the honey, she checked the bread bin on the wooden worktop - half a granary loaf. thick sliced. Taking a plate from the rack on the draining board, Molly tried the drawer on her right - full of mismatched cutlery. Scooping a large dollop of honey from the jar, she spread it, sort of, onto a slice of bread. Why wait for toast? Bread smothered in honey was perfect for a lazy late Saturday morning breakfast. Escaped dribbles of honey ran down the knife onto her fingers. Dropping the knife into the sink, she licked the honey off her hand.

Mmm, delicious.

Pulling out a chair, she sat down in front of a mug of cold coffee and a discarded book. Molly picked it up - Lee Child? Never heard of him. Plonking the book back down, she contemplated her quick fix breakfast. Lifting the slice up to her mouth, she bit in slowly. Heavenly. And another bite. Yep, definitely heavenly.

'Made yourself at home, I see.'

Startled, she dropped the bread back onto the plate. Greg, with just a towel wrapped around his waist, stood in the doorway, his damp hair sticking up all over the place. He was so handsome; she rather liked seeing him in this new way.

Smiling sheepishly, Molly wiped the crumbs from her lips. 'Sorry. Starving.'

'That's quite all right, love.' Making his way across to her, Greg winked. 'You have been rather busy this morning.'

And somehow his voice sounded even sexier than usual; probably something to do with the fact he was bare-chested and still slightly damp. Molly could definitely get used to this.

Slipping his warm bare arms around her neck, he kissed the top of her head. 'Bread and honey?'

Molly nodded. Greg turned and lean against the table, reaching out to stroke her cheek. She loved the tingle it sent up her spine. And how her knees went wobbly as he bent forward to slowly and firmly kiss her.

'Mmm, you taste rather nice.' Hands cupping her cheeks, his beautiful brown eyes looked into hers. 'Can I have you for breakfast?'

How could she resist such a voice, low and rough in her ear. Taking hold of his gorgeous lips with hers, Molly reached her hand out, feeling for the edge of the towel. The rest of her breakfast could wait.

*****  
  



End file.
